THOSE apparatchiks running the Tony Awards — Char lotte St. Martin of the Broadway League and Howard Sherman of the American Theater Wing — haven’t heeded some good advice about getting Will Ferrell to host this year’s Tony Awards.

Instead, they put their little heads together and came up with . . . James Gandolfini.

Broadway wiretaps reveal that, in the past week, the League and the Wing have twice approached Gandolfini, a Tony nominee for “God of Carnage,” about hosting this year’s telecast.

A plainclothes Shubert Alley source reports Gandolfini’s reaction: “After he picked himself up off the floor, he said he was flattered to be asked but he isn’t a song-and-dance man.”

(I can imagine him saying: “Who the f – – – do they think I am? Hugh Jackman?”)

Gandolfini will appear on the telecast but only as a presenter.

Still, it’s fun to imagine Tony Soprano in top hat and tails, high-kicking his way across the stage of Radio City Music Hall to a medley of songs by Jerry Herman, who’s receiving a Lifetime Achievement Tony:

“I am what I am, I am my own special creation. End of story.”

Or he could do what Whoopi Goldberg did last year and appear as a character in all four Tony-nominated musicals.

Put him in a pink tutu, and you’ve got “Billy Elliot” Gandolfini.

Paint him green, put some plugs on his head and, voila, “Shrek” Gandolfini.

Squeeze him into some skintight pants, sprinkle him with a lot of glitter, lend him Constantine Maroulis‘ hair and — hello, “Rock of Ages” Gandolfini!

As for “Next to Normal” Gandolfini — well, that’s easy. All he has to do is what he did for years on “The Sopranos”: sit on the couch and take his meds.

If St. Martin and Sherman noticed the way Gandolfini comports himself around Broadway, they’d know that asking him to play host is Pie-O-My pie-in-the-sky.

Gandolfini doesn’t seek the spotlight. He’s not pulling a Jane Fonda, running around Shubert Alley campaigning for Tony votes. Although he’s won three Emmys, he famously refused to campaign for any of them.

On the rare occasions he does do an interview for “God of Carnage,” he generally insists on appearing with his fellow cast members — Marcia Gay Harden, Hope Davis and Jeff Daniels, all of whom have been nominated for Tonys, as well.

The theater press corps is in awe of him — and intimidated by him. The other day, an Associated Press reporter found herself in an elevator with him. When she started asking questions, he gave her a Tony Soprano glare that, I’m told, left her stammering, the color drained from her face.

I met him at “Theater Talk,” the show I co-host on WNET/Ch. 13. He was fun, self-effacing and charming.

But when our executive producer asked him to smile and nod for cutaway shots, Gandolfini said: “You can’t be serious.”

He stood up, tore off his microphone and headed for the door. Then he stopped, turned around and marched over to the producer.

The studio fell silent. We all thought: “He’s going to whack him!”

Instead, he put his arm around the guy and said, “I’m sorry, man, I just can’t do those reaction shots.” Then he offered him an orange.

“The truth is, he’s a modest guy,” says a “Carnage” source. “He’s having a good time on Broadway, but he’s not going to get caught up in all the Tony nonsense.”

And his performance in “God of Carnage” speaks for itself.

No need for him to woo Tony voters by doing a Hugh Jackman.

When it comes to the race for Best Actor in a Play, he’s already in the hunt.